Young God
by KazamaKurama
Summary: Golden boy. Hero. Savior. People know the legend, but they don't know his story. Who is Namikaze Minato? From his childhood, up until his very death, come and see into the life of the legend himself.


AN: These stories will follow mostly on Minato's childhood, and all throughout his entire life, up until his death.

* * *

The neighbors were fighting again. Minato wasn't sure what it was about this time, but their yelling was getting louder and louder. He heard glass breaking - a vase, perhaps a plate even. They fought often, with no care for the ten year old that lived right next to him.

His apartment was barren mostly, save for what books that he had to study from the Academy and futon, plus the clothes within his closet. The village provided a monthly allowance for him, as they did other orphans that went into the academy to become shinobi. He should be used to it. Used to coming home to an empty apartment, with no one to greet him. No parents to wait on him, no parents to tell him that he was loved or cared for.

It was what motivated Minato to try harder in school. The teachers _cared_ when he did better than the other students. They _praised him,_ saw him as someone, anyone at all.

 _"He's going to be a great shinobi one day."  
_

 _"Do you see his potential? Already passing the top scores-"  
_

 _"Too bad about his attitude. He's rather cold, isn't he? He'll never make friends like that."_

Well it's not like he hadn't _tried_ to make friends. His grades and scores had made him a pariah somewhat. _"Why do you keep showing us up? Are you trying to make us look bad?"_ The other kids had asked one day, giving Minato a look of utter contempt. As good as his grades were, they didn't make up for the social skills that the boy very much lacked.

The yelling was getting distracting. Minato had half a mind to go over and ask them to keep it quiet, but the smell of smoke caught his attention, gaze snapping over to the stove. No. _Oh no._ He'd left dinner alone too long, and it was -

 _On fire._

Panic that he couldn't push down started to rise up as Minato ran over to the stove, attempting to put the fire out by tossing water onto it. The added consequence of that resulted in hot oil splashing everywhere, further setting the fire ablaze and burning his left arm in the process. Stumbling back and holding scorched skin that was far too painful for the child to make sense of, he didn't hear his door opening, not until there was a figure right next to him, putting out the fire with a rather powerful suiton jutsu.

A fist grabbed at his shirt, yanking the traumatized child up, his neighbor - the one that always drank and argued with his wife - glaring down at him with such annoyance that it made Minato flinch back.

"Are you _trying_ to set the building on fire?!" Etsuji glared down at the little brat who had the _gall_ to look like he had done nothing wrong. If he hadn't set the fire out when he did, the entire apartment would have gone up in flames - and the _little brat_ with it.

"I didn't mean -" Minato _tried_ to stammer out an apology, but Etsuji bulldozed right over it.

"Where are your parents?! Didn't they ever teach you not to leave the stove unattended?! Kids these days, _ungrateful little brats-"_

"Etsuji!" Aiko shot her husband a disapproving look as she stepped inside of the apartment, "He's an orphan. You'd know that if you weren't out drinking late again. You handled it, it was just a mistake. He's a _child."_

Letting out a breath, Etsuji properly took a look at the boy. He was a tiny thing, wasn't he? Tiny and trembling, clearly having had a bad experience. It was apparent he was letting his own emotions get the best of him and he set the kid down, "Well he should be more careful." Three days of being stuck on guard duty to come home to another argument waiting and now _this?_ No, he wasn't in a very good mood.

It dawned on Minato that this was the first time he'd properly even met his neighbors. Aiko was a rather plain looking woman, he noted. Brown hair that went to her shoulders, brown eyes that had crows feet. She was maybe a little over five feet, a woman with a figure, yet her eyes were kind as she knelt next to Minato.

"Are you alright dear?" Taking note of the way he held his arm protectively, she reached out - only to pause when Minato flinched back.

"I'm fine." He didn't _intend_ for his tone to come out so harsh, face flushing at how rude he had sounded. "I - I mean -"

"It's alright," Aiko glanced at her husband briefly. Etsuji knew he could look rather intimidating. Years of being a shinobi had hardened him, and the two scars going down the left side of his face probably didn't help the kid from being any less afraid.

"If you need help, it's alright to ask me at the least." Her smile was kind. Sympathetic, perhaps with _pity_ laced in. Her nephew was an orphan, her own sister having died on what was supposed to be a simple escort mission. It was apparent that, looking in this apartment, this boy had _no one_ at all.

"I. Um. _Thank you?"_ Minato clutched his injured arm closer, clearly not knowing how to handle this. Kindness was not something he was accustomed to. _Apparently all it took to get his neighbors to stop fighting was to nearly burn down the building._

"Why don't you come over to our place for dinner?" Aiko shot her husband a look that shut up whatever protest was about to come out. He instead took stock of Minato's apartment, if only to avoid arguing any further with his wife.

"I'll look at your injury too. If you'll let me?" She noticed how the child seemed to avoid wanting to be touched - _how could she not?_ \- and Aiko wanted to try to sooth the other. Perhaps it was a maternal instinct, perhaps the sight of this child - so small and all alone - tugged at her heart strings.

She couldn't have children of her own. Each attempt had resulted in the baby not surviving the birth. Her nephew was all grown up, a Chunin now, and perhaps it was her own inability to have children that had left her bitter over the years. Had been the reason for her to resign as a shinobi, had been the reason her husband drank so often.

As much as she wanted a family, it was impossible for her to have a child that was truly her own. Aiko shoved those thoughts away to focus on the boy in front of her, on the situation rather than her own lamenting.

"..Are you sure?" Minato didn't want to impose, not at all.

"Of course I am." She couldn't - _would not_ leave a child, an _injured_ child, alone in an apartment.

"Come on then. Etsuji will clean up this mess in here." Another look and that mouth of his snapped shut.

She didn't reach for him again, instead allowing Minato to follow after her while her husband took care of the mess in Minato's apartment. Took care to make sure the stove was turned off, that nothing else was too badly damaged.

As she looked back at the boy following her, taking note of how skittish he seemed, of how confused he was by the smallest bit of kindness -

Well. Aiko would make sure that this boy, at the very least, wouldn't be setting fires anymore, accidentally or not. A home cooked meal looked like it would do the boy good.


End file.
